Tag: language

  • Caster Semenya, “The Race To Be Myself” 

    After years of remaining silent and never truly sharing herself, Caster Semenya was ready to tell her story, and boy did she leave it all on the page. Few memoirs can be called more than autobiographical, however, Caster has managed to tell her story with humour, raw honesty, and an admirable sense of confidence that starts from the first sentence, “I am Mogkadi Caster Semenya. I am one of the greatest track and field athletes to ever run the 800-m distance.” I know of no other athlete who has shared their story so authentically, and honestly before. 

    Caster’s memoir encompasses her childhood in rural Limpopo, the first moments she knew she would be special at the age of 8, an athletic career that made her one of the most famous athletes of her generation, meeting her beloved wife, and the painful moments she suffered at the hands of the IAAF. “The Race to Be Myself” is conversational, and no rock is left unturned in this emotionally moving and enlightening book

    Caster Semenya

    From an outside perspective, as someone who has only watched Caster run and talk in a few interviews over the years, it’s hard to think of her as someone who is larger than life. However, her personality comes off the page  as she synthesizes her past and present, in colourful and often humorous language, ” Seme looked like one of those cartoon characters where the eyes would roll with dollar signs or his face turned into one of those casino slot machines…” (The Race To Be Myself, pg 108) 

    Writing her story right from the beginning, and including her days climbing trees, hunting with her male cousins, and growing up amongst her sisters puts into perspective where Caster’s confidence stems from. What may sometimes come across as arrogance in her interviews, is actually the product of growing up in an environment where Caster was never othered or treated any differently, her parents brought a girl into this world, and Caster’s unwavering belief in who she is never faltered even as the world told her otherwise, because the people that mattered most to her allowed her to boldly be just Caster. 

    The book is laugh-out-loud funny at times, especially as Caster describes how she has zero tolerance for bullies and how she often settled those disputes with her fists as a child. This is a  belief that she has carried into adulthood, as she faces the IAAF and continues to fight for the human rights of other female athletes who have been the subject of gender testing. But as much as Caster’s light-hearted tone introduces humour to the story, it also breaks one’s heart as she recounts the times when her body and human rights were grossly violated. One of the most profound things about the book is that Caster never stops to pity herself, all that comes through every page is her determination, “I want to run. I want to win. That’s it.” 

    Caster Semenya

    In just 306 pages, Caster manages to cover a lifetime in vivid detail. No name is left off the page, and no detail is considered too small, she remembers and writes about small moments of kindness as much as the moments of cruelty that she faced at the hands of her fellow athletes. Even as Caster rightfully names and shames some people, the moments that truly mark her as the resilient and powerful person that we know and love, are the quiet moments often away from the track. For example, how she came to create her signature cobra sign that we are so familiar with or the meet-cute with her wife Violet,  all are the actual hallmarks of the book. Moments that we have only witnessed through the media, like her two-time Olympic wins, are given arresting detail in the book, so one not only sees Caster as one of the greatest living athletes of all time but also one of the most resilient and iconic women that have ever lived. 

    This is a book you inhale, simply because it is that gripping. Written in simple but clear language, Caster pours out her life and also takes the time to reflect on some of the moments that she lived through. There are many take-aways from the book, mostly, Caster’s absolute determination and discipline, and some the sheer cruelty and eugenics that still govern the athletics world. This is perhaps one of the most important memoirs to come out of South Africa, since President Nelson Mandela’s “Long Walk to Freedom”. 

    Caster Semenya

    Caster Semenya

  • anticlockwise Ingwembe – on the hunt for languages that question space and text

    anticlockwise Ingwembe – on the hunt for languages that question space and text

    Tsholofelo Seleke, Siyanda Marrengane and Refiloe Namise are the young, female artists who make up the collective anticlockwise INGWEMBE. The collective has an interest in “cultural objects”, including the wooden spoon (ingwembe). This is an object that is central to their creative and artistic practice, made clear from its presence in their collective name. When asked to unpack their name, the collective presented me with an explanation that resembles the format of a dictionary definition that combined the various associations attributed to the wooden spoon:

    *ingwembe/lesokwane: a woman’s tool, a tool that instills discipline, a signifier of power- of an ‘invisible’ power, a symbol of inferiority, of domestication, mixing and re-mixing.

    There is an immediate link between the word anticlockwise and ingwembe. Anticlockwise brings to mind the idea of movement, flow and direction. Combined with ingwembe, one is able to imagine the rhythmic movement made when using a wooden spoon for cooking. The prefix ‘anti’ makes those who encounter their work aware of the fact that they are working against the flow and rhythm of institutions, texts and spaces that deny the presence of people of colour, particularly women of colour. Their work is what they refer to as “coll[activism]”; a recognition of the importance of collaborative creation and activism. This is also a concise way to present the operation of their art practice.

    “We are questioning the use of space- how a space is used, can be used, how it was previously used, imagined, how far it can be occupied, in various ways. This interest is often sparked by contexts, and how we read objects in different spaces. We explore these interrogations through sound, visual imagery, objects, texts and performance (performance-based installations/installation-based performance). Anything that can be experienced (seen, read, smelt, heard, felt, touched) can be a text. We enjoy the possibilities of being more…and see the importance of learning, teaching, sharing knowledges in ways that can be read differently.”

    In this exploration they are also on the hunt for a language that exists outside of the art world, one which is more “public”. This language can be seen, heard, felt, smelt and spoken, and is more fluid. When asked how they would recognise this language, anticlockwise expressed that “You will know it when you see it” stating that “this language is continuously being recreated.”

    Their first event Noma Yini: Round 1 was the closing of an event that was held at NGO (Nothing Gets Organised) in March 2016. The project was a collaboration with Eastside Projects (based in Birmingham) and facilitated by Gabi Ngcobo. It was based on the idea of a circuit, as well as the exchange and sourcing of materials around Nugget Square in Jeppestown. Participation took the form of a workshop and the making of portable chairs.

    Having tasted the stress and excitement of creating an event, anticlockwise took on another – OK’salayo. It began as the celebration of a friend’s recent job, and then transformed into a full on party, with a ‘silent’ landlord offering them a space at a former panel beaters. There is a OK’salayo 2.0 in the making.

    At the moment the collective is working on the idea of an experimental school called ama-fly-by-nights. “It is everywhere, yet nowhere, and it exists within us”. This school focuses on forms of knowledge production that are open and allows for narratives to be expressed in various languages (oral, visual, sonic, etc.)

    Follow anticlockwise INGWEMBE on Instagram to keep up with their work.

  • ANY BODY ZINE // writings on dance, movement and embodied politics

    ANY BODY ZINE // writings on dance, movement and embodied politics

    “I think it’s high time we start to address that dance, movement and embodied politics all form part of re-imagining and re-defining where, how and why bodies can occupy space.”

    This quote is from an interview with co-founder of ANY BODY ZINE (ABZ), Nicola van Straaten. She, along with Kopano Maroga and Julia de Rosenwerth, started the online and print publication with the desire to bring more cultural and social attention to artistic work that is rooted in the body, “but also a desire to expand ideas around what kind of bodies are dancing bodies.” The intention is to emphasize that every body is a potential site for “creative self-actualization” and “open understandings of dance”.

    Having met during their time at the then UCT School of Dance, Nicola proposed the idea of the publication to Kopano and Julia. Since then they have released 10 issues, all dealing with varied aspects of dance, choreography, movement, and bodies through written contributions and interviews with people from different aspects of their industry. Every issue has a central theme that offers guidance to contributors, and a direction for the curation of each issue. Kopnano explains that the themes are based on their interests at different moments, making each issue a reflection a way of thinking at a particular moment in time. Volume 2, comprised of four issues so far, is focused on verbs that relate to dance and movement – Marching, Falling, Jumping and Hanging. Nicola explains that they chose verbs because they were interested in the intersection between language and movement, action and motion.

    Previous issues from Volume 1 have included conversations about semantics, emotions, body politics and taboo subjects, offering a wide variety of entry points for conversations. The issue titled “Space/Place” tackles the semantic and political differences invoked in the use of “space” versus “place”, and connects to the act of curation and place making. The issue, “Rhythm” looks at sound and music makers within their community, and includes features on the Phillipi Music Project, a computer engineered rhythm making program by Mohato Lekena and performer and musician Coila-Leah Enderstein who features a lot in their issues, and who Kopano describes as a “kind of ad hoc, fourth member of ABZ”. The issue, “Sex”, arose from an interest in interrogating perceptions of the naked body in performance, specifically how it is always read through sexual references even when the intention of a performance has nothing to do with this. Other issues have explored topics such as race, colour, subjectivity, objectivity, the personal and the political.

    “There are so few opportunities for people to share their creative work that isn’t easily consumable or sellable, which I think is why folks are always really keen to contribute,” Kopano explains while reflecting on how they ask people in their community to contribute to the publication. The publication is also a platform to bolster the profile of practitioners who are a large part of the growth and development of dance and movement and related practices in Southern Africa. They have conducted interviews with dancer and choreographer Rudi Smit, strange and intellectual performance artist Gavin Krastin and filmmaker Jenna Bass just to mention a few.

    Julia, Kopano and Nicola each contribute in different and important ways to the project. “Julia’s incredible choreographic eye for detail (and the fact that she basically taught herself web design) make her the boss of the website. Kopano’s amazing relational qualities and ability to hold spaces have resulted in him doing a lot of the liasioning with our contributors, stockists and general public, lately he’s also been directing the kind of ‘business’ development of the zine. And my passion for books and print mean I head up the layout and printing aspect of the work. We all edit together, make decisions together, essentially ‘lead’ the project together,” Nicola explains.

    Connected to the online and print publication is the third wing of ABZ, the performative platforms. ANY BODY ZINE has collaborated with NEW DANCE LAB, to create the ANY BODY DANCE LAB – a 6 week dance and performance residency for Cape Town-based artists. Teaming up with Theatre Arts Admin Collective and the Goethe-Institut Johannesburg, the residency comprises of a series of dance, composition, writing and performance workshops that culminate in a series of public performances by the 10 participants on the residency. The content from the writing workshops will be compiled to form a publication produced by ANY BODY ZINE. “We wanted to include a writing component to the ANY BODY DANCE LAB and thought that it would be very special if we curated a publication to contextualise and archive the project, but that also provides a platform for the residents to publish some of their work. As ANY BODY ZINE, we are also interested in the processes of content creation and saw this as a good opportunity to explore that question further,” Julia explains. What connects all three aspects of their work is the desire to make space for and to support independent artists.

    Julia also informed me that after a fantastic Thundafund Campaign [Thundafund is a crowdfunding platform in South Africa], they were able to print their 2016 and 2017 content which will be available at the Book Lounge in Cape Town on Roeland street and Bibliophilia in Woodstock. ANY BODY ZINE will also be available for purchase at the Association for Visual Arts (35 Church street, Cape Town) during their Comics Focus zine and comics festival taking place from the 21st of June to the 19th of July.

    Reflecting on their intentions for the publication, Nicola expressed that they hope it will allow people to think about their bodies differently and perhaps see dance as a more accessible medium. The publication presents itself as an archive of South African performance and movement practices, showcasing an image of the contemporary history of dance and beginning the documentation of SA’s dance lineage. The platform also offers validation for those already deeply involved in the industry and the possibility for opportunities for emerging artists.

    Check out their website to find out more about their upcoming projects.

    “In our current neoliberal context, dance really doesn’t get as much support as fine art or even film, because it isn’t necessarily a ‘sellable’ product. But that’s also why it’s such a powerful tool, because dance is an experience and has the potential to be internally transformative in that way.” – Nicola van Straaten

    2016’s Vol 1 content (Photo by Nicola van Straaten)
  • Exploring the politics of fashion at the AFROPUNK x Umuzi RINGA! exhibition

    Umuzi in partnership with AFROPUNK put together the exhibition RINGA!, Exhibition of Taal on the 5th of October. Reflecting on the weight that language holds, with regards to identity and being able to connect with other people, this exhibition focused on the concept of language in Southern Africa as a complex singularity, rather than languages as separate entities.

    A group of young Umuzi artists teamed up with Sandile Radebe and ߔߎ߯ߟߍ߫ ߞߊ-ߖߊ߬ߣߏ߬ߟߌ߲߯ߗߌ to use Isibheqe, an indigenous writing system for Southern African languages, as a medium to convey an everyday, pan-lingual experience. These works were premised on the idea of language as a flowing system that has the ability to carve out pathways and connect back to itself. The exhibition aimed to provide viewers with an experience within which they can engage with language in a non-hierarchical manner. The exhibition was curated by Chantelle Lue, Afari Kofi, Clayton Nkateko, ߔߎ߯ߟߍ߫ ߞߊ-ߖߊ߬ߣߏ߬ߟߌ߲߯ߗߌ, Sandile Radebe, and Odendaal Esterhuyse.

    Fashion could also be interpreted as a kind of language, and in the same way that language carries political weight, so does fashion. I interviewed five people who attended the exhibition to chat to them about the politics of fashion.

    Themba Nkuna

    Wearing wide-rimmed white glasses and his mother’s shirt under his coat, Themba Nkuna caught my eye. In conversation about what he is wearing he mentioned, “I’m gay so I like to blend masculinity and femininity.” He also emphasized how his star sign, Cancer, influences how he has gotten to know parts of himself. “I rise as a Cancer so my emotions just change. Every day I wake up I am a different person. My emotions guide me. And my clothes are a representation of that.”

    Photograph of Tiniko Baloyi

    Tiniko Baloyi

    Floating in a sea of people, Tiniko’s white beret bobbed around as she animated the conversation she was lost in. Pulling her aside we spoke about what is means to be a woman of colour in the city, and how this plays into her fashion choices. “I am black and a women. I think that certain things are presented by me from a certain perspective. But it is not necessarily something I think about and want to bring out,” she states about how she chooses to dress herself. “I like different ethnicities. I am drawn to different ethnic groups. Where they come from does not really matter. I also like street cultures. That’s a kind of ethnicity that is more urban. This also influences my personal style.”

    Photograph of Tiniko Baloyi
    Photograph of Alora Reine

    Alora Reine

    With her locs swinging from side to side as we walked in the dimly lit street beside the exhibition, Alora shared with me how she combines thrifting with her chic grunge aesthetic. “I make and paint my own clothes as well,” she adds. “Self expression is very important to me,” she continues. Emphasizing how she is pro-Black in all senses of the word, Alora explains how African apparel completes her chic grunge look as well as bring to the fore her pro-Black sentiments. “My pro-Blackness does not influence how I think about other Eurocentric cultures or trends,” she argues. However, she does present a humanist alignment when she mentions, “First of all I am a human being before I am a black human being. Before I am a pro-Black woman.”

    Photograph of Alora Reine
    Photograph of Allyssa

    Allyssa

    Fine Arts student Allyssa amalgamates the feminine and masculine in how she thinks about fashion. Mentioning that studying Fine Art has helped her to find her personal style, she states that, “I am a young woman…I don’t care about looking very feminine all the time because I do not think that is important. I don’t need to look like a ‘lady’ everyday. I usually wear really baggy things. I wear my dad’s clothes. I buy men’s clothes. I buy women’s clothes. I buy whatever I like. I don’t care about what anyone else things about what I like.”

    Photograph of Allyssa
    Photograph of Chantelle Lue

    Chantelle Lue

    Even while wearing all black, Chantelle brought light with her presence while in conversation with me. “Although my entire wardrobe is black and I think that is just a hang-up of my life in architecture, [my personal style] is a case of comfort and speedy changing.” She mentioned that she finds strength in black. “I have recently shaved my head which I guess was indicative of a new start and it means that I have got nothing to hide behind anymore. I feel a bit exposed at the moment but I find strength in that. I recently dyed it blonde…I think the fact that I don’t wear dresses or I guess my style tends to be quite androgynous, there may be something in that. But for practical reasons I find that I am more agile dressed compactly in black.”

  • Swedish Rapper Lilla Namo Tells Donald Trump to Shut Up with Håll Käften

    I both love and hate using cliches. Cliches are usually true and there’s a familiarity to them that resonates but they’re also lazy and unimaginative, which makes the ego in a writer go “I’m better than this.” That being said, there really is something to them. Like “Music transcends language.” It’s something that we all tend to agree with and understand. Regardless of the language someone is singing in, we can connect with the song as a whole regardless of whether or not we understand the words. I mean, look at La Macerena, Asereje aka “The Ketchup Song”, or Gangam Style… Ok, I’m joking, but also I’m not. We know those songs are about having a good time (Also, they all came with simple dances so white people can dance to them at weddings). We know Rammstein’s music means “The world sucks and we should burn it all down”. And we get that Cypress Hill’s Spanish songs are mostly about smoking weed and doing gangster shit, although you probably figured that out from their English stuff.

    Anyway, I bring this all up because today we’re introducing you to a Swedish rapper by the name of Lilla Namo. Lilla recently put out an uptempo pop song telling Donald Trump to shut up, which I’m pretty sure is something we can all relate to. “Håll Käften” has had me dancing around my bedroom singing into a hairbrush, which is awkward ‘cause I don’t really know the words – yet. But hey, music transcends language so I’m not going to feel too bad about it.

    I got to have a brief email chat with Lilla about telling the POTUS to shut up, Swedish politics, and using humour and satire in her music. You can give it a read it below whilst you give Håll Käften a listen and then check out her Youtube page for some dope music videos (Forlat is particularly great)

    From what I understand “Håll Käften” means “Shut Up” and is aimed at President of the United States, Donald Trump (still feels weird to type). I take it your news media and news feeds are as congested with news about the troll as ours is?

    It is somehow absurd, but I was not at all shocked, that Trump won the election. If we can learn something from history is that all things move in cycles (As long as we don’t break patterns it’s gonna continue to happen. That goes for both micro AND macro level). The song really started like a shut up to all the bullshit that comes out from his mouth. People laughed, created memes and his popularity increased. Donald Trump is like an evil character from a Disney Movie, but he is also real and now one of the most powerful people in the world. The shut up was just me being tired of hearing his name and his capitalist, sexist, racist etc. statements wherever I logged on or went. It was also a shut up to people around me that had disappointed me in life. So I merged the two into a person, like I usually do in my texts and created this song called Shut Up (Håll Käften in Swedish). So when you listen to it you would think it’s about a relationship between two people. And really when it comes down to what the World is, it’s all about relationships and connections between people.

    What made you write a song about a foreign politician? Is Sweden’s political climate that great or is American politics just that invasive?

    The Swedish climate is fucked up as well. However, the welfare-state that was built up in Sweden has laid a strong foundation for the country as a whole. But today, the Swedish Welfare is nothing but a myth. Most important functions in society are privatized or semi-private which we can see bad results from today. A lot of my music is about the issues we have in Sweden but from a more everyday-life perspective. Writing about Trump was also fun because it becomes fictitious. So answering your question, both Sweden and America are invasive but in different ways. Everything is relative to the context. I love Sweden and can’t even imagine how it is to live in the States with a carrot as a president. Basically he is a vegetable….

    In South Africa, a lot of rappers used to rap in English with an American accent, but nowadays there’s a focus on rapping in local languages and creating art that relates locally more than globally. Through that, a few have found international success because what they’re doing sounds unique and interesting. I bring this up because you rap in Swedish and I wanted to know if you ever considered rapping in English to appeal to a broader audience, or is relating to your local audience more important?

    I think rapping in Swedish just makes it feel so much more real for me. I don’t master the English language in the way I do Swedish. Swedish is a simple language even when we write music, it is more about the metaphors and how we phrase things that makes the music interesting. How we chose to build up sentences or play with slang. That I can’t do with English. With that said, I’ve tried to write in English and I guess if I would be a nerd about it I would learn to master it…maybe in the future. I usually just go with the flow (no pun intended…)

    I know “Music transcends language” is a cliche, but cliches are often true. Do you think it is true, and if so, how does it do so for you?

    I listen to a lot of French rap and I understand zero. Music is really more about a feeling than anything else. Some notes just makes me cry and I can’t explain why. Some force you to dance and you can’t control it. Everyone knows this and I guess that’s why it’s a cliche.

    Your song “Haffa Guzz” is a satirical look at how you’d spend your time if you were a guy and “Håll Käften” seems to also take a lighthearted approach (I couldn’t find translated lyrics but the song feels fun and upbeat). Do you find humour and coating things in sugar helps deliver your message, or is it just fun to do? Maybe both?

    I’ve always had self distance. So I guess my music reflects my personality. I can’t take my self or life too serious at all times. I find the approach I use as a challenge when writing, it’s a smart way of explaining how things are fucked up…haha. If I would have written too literal, the essence would disappear. It’s to easy to write a song and say: FUCK DONALD TRUMP, because everyone (or obviously not everyone but most) would agree. It’s too boring for me. I don’t want the cheers of the mass. I’ve always taken the difficult paths because I know the shortcuts are not long term decision, maybe sometime I’m too complicated and I don’t even make sense to people. But that’s me. Take it or leave it.

  • Katleho Kano Shoro: ‘Serurubele’ poetry collection take off and the writing on the wings

    Writing can take many forms and take people on multiple journeys. South African-based poet, researcher, project manager and content editor, Katleho Kano Shoro, recognises the reflective and transformative power of words. I interviewed her about soon to be released book, Serurubele, published by South African publishing house Modjaji Books. Katleho also shared with me the metamorphosis of her personal relationship with writing.

    Tell me about the relationship you have with writing and how it has evolved over the years? Do you have a particular relationship with poetry that is different from other forms of writing? How did this come into play with Serurubele?

    I need to write. I keep a journal where I go through my thoughts, emotions, ideals and plans with myself: my level of honesty, analysis and healing through this kind of writing has grown from when I first kept a journal. As an academic within the social sciences, I am basically trained in reading and writing. And although writing my Master’s dissertation was one of the hardest pieces of writing I have ever had to produce, the process taught me discipline and perseverance where discipline falls short. I learned to understand my own writing processes, as well as the importance of writing with integrity. Oh and the more I write in general, the more I appreciate the value of editing and then of learning to let go once I have written in the best way I can. So maybe I can say my relationship with writing is one that teaches me basic life skills too.

    I have come to embrace my need for writing in order to stay sane – particularly where poetry is concerned – so the relationship has strengthened. This means that I am actively learning more about poetry and I am doing more research about the things I write about. The newer poems in Serurubele are a reflection of my growth and an embrace of this kind writing. I am in the caterpillar stages of playing around with form and learning to tame English (in the Chinua Achebe and Ntate Keorepetse Kgositsile sense) within my writing.

    Also, poetry is more than writing to me. Besides using it to reflect on the world, poetry has allowed me to speak through more than words, i.e. through performance. This, in turn, has made me more aware of presence – mine and others – within poetry spaces. This awareness feeds my writing and reach for narratives with integrity.

    ‘Serurubele’ is coming out in August 2017. Would you like to share the creative journey that you went on to put this work together?

    For starters, the journey has taken years! I had to begin seeing poetry as more than a cathartic process. I had to begin respecting the craft and profession and work on it. I am glad it has taken so long though. It has taught me to work towards goals but also be patient – especially with myself and life’s timing. Serurubele is coming out at a time when I have learnt to trust that I too am an intellectual, and that there are other creative intellectuals who have been here…who are here. This publishing journey has had its hiccups and twists; through them, I am beginning to expect that people treat me (as Motho) and my craft with respect. I too am learning to be a creative who gives poetry its due respect.

    When putting ‘Serurubele’ together did you imagine a particular reader in mind?

    At the beginning it was simply fellow poets, creatives and academics. Then it was my gran because she represented the elders I was trying to make proud. Now, I am hoping that some of the poems resonate with people who do not particularly go out searching for poetry as well as the friends (or rather age group) of my nephews and nieces. The idea of having poetry conversations with people who are not in the creative and academic industries seems like a necessary part of Serurubele’s life (as well as the poetry industries general growth).

    What are some of the themes you have covered in ‘Serurubele’? What journey can people expect to be taken on through this book?

    Well, of course each reader will have his/her own journey with the collection. But if I were to lead a tour, I would ask the reader to note that there are explorations of performance, writing and poetry throughout the collection. We begin the tour by being present and acknowledging that we carry the knowledges of many. We then move into a space of grappling with (and reaching for) different parts of identity – particularly black, African identity. Here, language, histories, pan-Africanism and masculinity are themes. Fatherhood is present. Whim, bliss and colour feature too. Then we reflect on mourning loved ones and return full cycle to the idea of not doing this life thing alone.

    Anything else you would like to mention about ‘Serurubele’?

    The name “serurubele” means “butterfly” in Sesotho. Nevertheless, the collection is mostly written in English, salted with black, African sensibilities (from my experiences and understandings) and peppered with Sesotho. You tell me if the meal works…

    What are some of the themes you like to explore through your words?

    Broadly speaking, my words and work are rooted in my understanding that creativity and art are an important space where intellect thrives. My work mostly centres on African intellectualism. Unfortunately, we are still at the point where we have to remind ourselves, as Africans, and others, that we too are intellectuals and hold many kinds of knowledge. Also, as full humans we are complex and layered. All other themes in my work tend to stem from these understandings.

    To find out the details for the launch of Serurubele or to pre-order the book, check out Katleho Shoro on Facebook or follow her on Twitter.

    Photography by Theodorah Ndlovu